


Like Real People Do

by IneffableWitch



Series: Sympathy for the Hanged Man [4]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Epilogue, F/M, First Time, because sue me i like the trope, bg portia/nadia development, merging some route specific story threads, tying up loose ends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:27:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22777096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableWitch/pseuds/IneffableWitch
Summary: "I was fully confident I’d come back --!”“Which is the only reason I’m not astral projecting into the afterlife with your sister to smack you upside the head with Mazelinka’s spoon,” she said. Only half-joking. She was pretty sure the three of them would have found a way.
Relationships: Apprentice/Julian Devorak
Series: Sympathy for the Hanged Man [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1582171
Comments: 4
Kudos: 49





	Like Real People Do

**Author's Note:**

> Sue me, its always gonna be loving Julian Devorak hours on this account. So I'm writing up all my thoughts on what happened during those two months we don't see.

Julian flopped onto the bed with a long feeling groan. It was sort of amazing how much space he took up when he let his limbs go every which way. Rosier hid her smile in her hand and snickered softly. 

“Oh, is that how you feel?”

He mumbled something that didn’t sound much like any language she knew and waved one gloved hand in her general direction. 

Adorable. She minced around the bed, putting out candles and pulling off the complicated frills and frippery of the masquerade as she went. Until she was standing in only her chemise and stocking feet, gently rubbing the places where the stiff material of her costume had bit into her skin. 

The whisper of cloth sliding away prompted her exhausted lover to crack open one eye and turn his head to watch her. A deep red blush started in his cheeks and crept all the way down to his chest. The expression on his face was one of pure adoration with a generous helping of bewilderment. As if he couldn’t believe his luck. 

“Don’t tell me you plan on sleeping in that feathered coat of yours,” she said, leaning over to trail her fingers over the exposed part of his chest. He’d loosened the cravat and opened the jacket and the shirt beneath, but not much else. His boots were even still on. 

He laughed lightly. “Perhaps I need some help taking everything off?”

Rosier dropped to the bed, leaning over him. Dark brown hair tumbled over her shoulder, and he lifted his hand to play with it, eyes gone heavy lidded with contentment. 

“Are you that tired?”

“Positively withering away, darling. I may just faint.”

She brushed her lips across his. Not quite a kiss. “Oh? And how can I prevent this tragedy?”

He groaned softly when she climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. “It’s a, ah, mystery.”

“I love you,” she said against his mouth. 

“I love you too,” he said back, voice can all soft and adoring.

She couldn’t get enough of those words. After all, there hadn’t really been time to really appreciate them when he’d first told her. The Devil made a terrible obstacle for romance.

But when Rosier closed her eyes all she could see was a trap door opening under Julian’s boots. A lifeless dangle of legs, and a blank bulging stare. 

Her throat closed and her hands spasmed into fists in his coat. 

_Stop that. It’s fine. It’s fine now, relax --_

She saw Valdemar with a scalpel raised, grinning. Saw Julian’s tiny office as she realized she’d died three years ago. 

And the sleek gleaming red of the Devil’s realm. 

It had been so fucking close there at the end. She and the others stringing together a plan from nothing but a hope and a dream. With her eyes closed she could still feel the lick of flames -- like the Lazaret in the end -- hear the screaming voices on the wind. If things had gone just slightly different, Julian would be gone, and she’d be trapped between and --

And her skin itched. Like it didn’t fit quite right. 

Which was stupid. There was nothing left of Lucio in her body. But he’d been wearing it. And it made her feel so -- so _slimy._

There was the faintest tremble to her now. A tightness in her chest and a burning in her eyes. Oh, why was she about to cry now? She’d been fine! 

“Fuck,” she gasped. And burst into tears, pushing her palms to her eyes like she could hide that she was crying. 

Alarmed, Julian sat up and pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her and stroking her hair. “Rosier? Oh, shh, it’s okay darling, it’s -- it’s okay, Rosier. Breathe with me now --”

She swiped angrily at her eyes, trying to stop the flow of tears. “Oh, damn it, I was trying to be sexy!” 

Kisses were pressed all over her face, catching her tears. “In my professional opinion as a doctor, you’ll never have to try.”

She hid her face in his neck and let out something between a sob and a laugh. “Julian. I’m, I’m, I feel like I’m gonna shatter if something doesn’t hold me together.”

He shifted them, carefully pressing her into the bed with all his weight. Stroking her face, down her neck, over her collar while she shuddered. Broad firm touches that made her feel like she was present inside her own body. 

This was too much like those early days when she’d first woken. And been stuck feeling like she’d been stuffed into a jar, or was made of fragile, hollow blown glass. And it made her angry. She didn’t want to fall apart! To be vulnerable. 

“I’m sorry,” she hiccuped. “I don’t mean t-to break down --”

Julian snorted. “Love, how many times have I fallen apart since we met? Er, re-met?”

Okay, that was fair but --

“Hm,” he said. “That expression is usually on my face.”

She scowled at him -- then let out a little sigh and curled against him. For a long time she just lay against him, focusing on the warmth and weight of him against her. The soft drag of his hands up and down her arms. 

“Today has been a lot,” she admitted. 

“I think it might be tomorrow now, actually.”

“The last length of time I’ve been forced to be awake, then,” she said, shifting her face so she could see him. “I’m so tired, but when I close my eyes I see -- terrible things.” 

Rosier unbuttoned the last few buttons of his coat, and tried to slide it from his shoulders. Julian shrugged it off and tossed it to the floor. 

“You need to apologize to your sister. Or. Maybe make her a card or something. And Mazelinka too.”

He blinked at her, uncomprehending. 

Rosier laughed a little. And it didn’t even sound choked up this time. “I’m not saying this to upset you -- but seeing you die is going to feature heavily in my nightmares for the rest of my life Julian.”

He sat up abruptly with a curse, eyes wild. “I didn’t even think of that!”

She propped herself up on one elbow. “Julian. How.... did that not occur to you? It was a public execution.”

His face flooded with heat. “I know that, I just didn’t really… think about what it looked like from the other end of things. I was fully confident I’d come back --!”

“Which is the only reason I’m not astral projecting into the afterlife with your sister to smack you upside the head with Mazelinka’s spoon,” she said. Only half joking. She was pretty sure the three of them would have found a way.

Julian abruptly swooped down and covered her face in kisses. “I’m so sorry!”

What did she say here? She was so tired. And he’d learned so much. So… oh to hell with it. She tangled her fingers in his hair and kissed the front of his throat. “It was the best option at the time. And you told everyone beforehand. Well, eventually. It’s okay. Don’t do that again, though.”

He laughed. “The hanged man man it very clear he had the hanged part all locked up, and that I wasn’t to try it again. Now on the other hand, if you wanted to choke me a little…” he waggled his eyebrows at her in a ridiculous display. 

Rosier rolled her eyes, aware he was being entirely serious. “I’ve never understood why that’s sexy, Julian.”

He tilted his head to one side. “You restrict blood flow to the brain. It causes disorientation and makes things feel more… intense.”

She blinked. “Wait, it’s not about being unable to breathe?”

Julian laughed and grinned at her. “Oh, so innocent.”

Rosier smacked him. “You know I don’t have any experience in the bedroom.”

That little comment made his eyes bug out. “Wait, you don’t?!”

Had he really --? Well. She supposed it was only obvious because she knew what she’d been like in the beginning. Barely able to walk, or talk. And she doubted he’d recognized any odd looks she’d gotten in her neighborhood. Actually -- had the two of them _ever_ been in her neighborhood together before midnight? 

“If I knew anything before three years ago, I don’t now. And I haven’t done anything of that nature since.”

He raised his eyebrows. 

“Outside of the things we’ve done. But that’s more… um, more…” her confident matter of fact tone withered. An embarrassed blush crept up the sides of her neck and into her cheeks.

“Making out.” And he sounded so pleased with himself.

“Yes. And it might be my new favorite thing to do, so long as it’s with you.” She reached up, caressing the side of his face. “I love the sounds you make. And the faces. You’re so pretty.”

“Isn’t that my line,” he murmured. 

“We can share.” She kissed his chin. “And -- I’m glad I brought this up. Because I really have no idea what I’m doing.”

He nodded… and then smiled brightly at her, a mischievous gleam in his eyes that went right to her stomach. “This means I get to show you how good I can make you feel.”

 _Oh, fuck._ She laughed, blushing to the roots of her hair. “If you keep talking that…”

He winked. And for once it actually came across as a wink because she could see both of his eyes. 

“I love you. And I’m not even going to cry this time.”

“Oh, good. I was wondering if I should worry… that was two for two so far.”

She pushed him off of her and curled against his side, yawning widely. “I think the sun is actually coming up.”

“Darling, the sun has _been_ up.” 

He extricated himself from her death grip, yanking off his boots with a relieved groan. And from there started tossing articles of clothing hither and yon until he was down to his ridiculously tight trousers. Which was very much unfair because now she had to decide between touching him and sleeping and she didn’t think she could hold off on the sleep much longer. 

“Julian,” she groaned. 

“What?” he said, walking on his knees to free the curtains around the bed from their mooring. 

She looped her arms around his middle and dragged him back down into bed. Before his innate ability to function on no sleep kicked in. 

“Don’t go to your room, okay?” she mumbled. “I want you in my bed.”

“You’re trying to kill me,” he sighed. 

“Nn. I’m trying to sleep with you.”

“Your wish is my command, darling.”

She pressed one last kiss on him -- over his heart. And closed her eyes, hugging him tightly against her. 

“Goodnight.”

“It’s not really night --”

“Julian, I will bite you. And you won't like it.”

She heard him take in a breath to say something -- then apparently think better and fall silent. The last thing she was aware of before falling asleep was him absently stroking her hair again, and yawning.


End file.
